


The Dancing Lights

by mildlysinning (arka_r)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Dioscuri AU, Gen, Implied Relationships, Interdimensional Stans AU, Jupiter Ascending elements, Multiple Realities, Science Fiction, The Stans in flowy robes, space hedonism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 01:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5356208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arka_r/pseuds/mildlysinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper finds a treasure in the attic. Ford tells a story.</p><p>Dioscuri AU credits to: <a href="http://stan-o-wars.tumblr.com">stan-o-wars</a> and <a href="http://theywerefireworks.tumblr.com">theywerefireworks</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Shack was full with weird, spooky stuff. Most of them were total fake, but Dipper suspected that the rest were actual thing that his grunkles had taken home from their weird interdimensional travel, now that he actually knew about the possibility of it in the first place. They were scattered everywhere, the harmless ones had been proudly displayed as exhibits in the museum, while some he could see lying around in what his Grunkle Stan called an ‘organized mess’.

 

He swore it was an actual remains of what used to be a tentacle monster that he found lying innocuously on the kitchen counter. Was either one of his grunkles planning to cook the thing as breakfast? Dipper shuddered at the thought. The thing smelled so bad, even worse than his own month old dirty socks.

 

Dipper left the suspected-but-hopefully-not breakfast alone and continued on his morning wandering. The Shack was blessedly silent except for the wind whistling through the planks, the faucet dripping in the sink and the possums skittering somewhere in the Shack–or Dipper hoped it was possum and not more nasty gnome infestation. It was still too early when nightmares threw his butt back to reality. Mabel was still asleep and so did both of his grunkles.

 

He found Stan snoring in front of the TV, still holding a pint of melted chocolate ice cream probably from his late night old man movie marathon. He was wearing his usual striped boxers and white singlet (that looked a tad greyish from numerous unwashable stains at this point), his scars visible from every bit of uncovered skin.

 

Dipper always thought those scars fascinating instead of monstrous. Since Stan was never so open about the stories behind them, Dipper always loved to imagine what kind of situation his grunkle had gotten them from, what kind of creatures he had fought. That gnarled, twisted scar peeking from the frontside of his singlet, probably he got from taking down an acid-spitting alien fugitive. The part where a chunk of flesh seemed to be bitten off probably came from battling part human-part lizard with rows of teeth, each one sharper than any knives. Dipper liked to think that some of them at least were caused from protecting Ford. He could almost imagine his Grunkle Stan doing just that, his bulk of a body taking attacks that was meant for his brother, while Ford would finish whatever attacking them with rounds from his gun.

 

When Stan was mumbling something incoherently, Dipper left him alone.

 

Ford had taken Dipper a bit longer to find, but he found him nonetheless, and in the most bizarre place too. His great uncle curled up in the bathtub. Dipper didn’t even want to know why his great uncle decided the bathtub was a perfect place to sleep and by now he knew better than to attempt waking Ford without at least ten feet between him and his great uncle. Ford always slept with weapon tucked somewhere on his person and while he’d never harm either Dipper or Mabel, Dipper didn’t really want to play that dangerous game.

 

Instead, he slipped out the bathroom, quietly avoiding wood panels that he knew by heart would creak when stepped on. Where to go now, he thought. He could always go to the basement, but Ford made him promise not to go down there without at least one adult (not counting Soos, especially not Soos).

 

Oh, right… The closet in the attic always had weird, interesting stuff that you wouldn’t think you would find in a normal looking attic. It was like a museum on itself. Mabel loved it. He loved it too, when it wasn’t infested with gnomes and pixies.

 

Five minutes later, Dipper was safely rooting through six old-timey board games (one of them was a very worn looking nineteen-eighties edition of  _Dungeon, Dungeon, and More Dungeon_ , undoubtedly used to belong to Ford at one time), a few dusty old  _Stan Vac_ , a box full of alien looking clothes (was that spandex?), and… ooooh. Gotcha. Dipper unearthed a crate full of sci-fi looking tech stuff buried in dust covered sheets.

 

Most of the objects in the crate was metallic, still shiny as new and not one dust covering their surfaces. They came in various sizes, with the biggest slightly larger than his head and the smallest just about the size of pea. Every single one was carved with intricate lines and circles that somehow reminded him of crop circles.

 

By now, Dipper had known not to touch anything glowing or pulsing, but these things looked dormant, almost harmless. He cautiously poked one of the biggest spheres and when it didn’t come to life at his touch, he picked it up.

 

The thing was surprisingly light, though when Dipper knocked at its surface, it didn’t make any noise, which probably indicated that it was in fact solid metal. The lines too didn’t make any sense and Dipper had a thought to lick it.

 

“Who’s there?” Dipper heard his Great Uncle Ford’s voice right outside the closet and nearly dropped the thing. He knew that if he didn’t make his presence known, things would get messy fast. Slowly, he crawled out of his hiding space, the sphere tucked under his arm.

 

“It’s just me, Great Uncle Ford”, he said once he saw the man standing on the doorway, thankfully weaponless. "I thought you’re still sleeping.”

 

“Uh, yeah… I heard something walking around the house. I didn’t know it was you”, Ford offered a hand to help him stand. His eyes wandered to the object under Dipper’s arm. “Oh, you found one of those Dancing Lights!”

 

“What? This thing?” Dipper held the sphere up. It didn’t look like something that would emanate light, but who knew? Ford took it from his hands to inspect it.

 

“Yes, these things are quite popular among royalties from Dimension JC-271-A6”, Ford smiled, his fingers tracing the patterns. Dipper could see the moment his great uncle’s mind wandered into the memory.

 

“Can you… Can you tell us story about it, Great Uncle Ford?” Dipper asked, a little bit unsure. He knew the journey his grunkles had been going through wasn’t always sunshine and puppies, but sometimes it was and they wouldn’t mind much telling him and Mabel about it. This one dimension didn’t seem bad if his great uncle’s dreamy expression was any indication.

 

“Sure, why not”, Ford shrugged. “But breakfast first, alright?”

 

Soon, they were sitting on the dining room, Ford having removed the monstrous remains from the kitchen counter (so it wasn’t breakfast, thank God) while Dipper deliberately lagged behind him. The smell still lingered but they opened the windows to let autumn draft in and the stink out. They each had a bowl of cereals in front of them.

 

“Right, so… Dimension JC-271-A6”, Ford began, eyeing the crate they dragged down from the attic.

 

–

 

It all began when Stanley came down to the basement lab, his trans-universal communicator clutched in his hand.

 

“We got a mission call”, he told Ford.

 

“From who?” Ford asked, still not looking up from his work. He was fiddling with his tool belt to add more space for carrying weapons and stuff. When he didn’t get immediate answer, he looked up to meet his brother’s eye, chuckling. “What, it’s a name you can’t pronounce? Just make up your own name like usual.”

 

“Uhm, no. It’s from… It’s from Stanley and Stanford Pines of the House of Axocar, Dimension JC-271-A6.”

 

“… The what now?”  _That_  actually got Ford’s interest.

 

He heard of the House of Axocar, of course. They were the strongest dynasty from a highly intelligent race Anur Arta. Their matriarch owned the most advanced spaceship manufacturing company in this side of galaxy in at least twenty dimensions (that they know of). Their ships had been used by military organizations and royalties. Heck, Ford and Stan stole one of those spaceships at one point and it still ran like a beauty.

 

But why would their counterparts get mixed into that space monarchy malarkey?

 

“You heard me, Ford. Wanna check on this or what?” Stanley grinned.

 

Well, what the hell… “Alright, then. Let’s hear what our fancied-up counterparts have in minds.”

 

Two days later, Stanley and Stanford arrived on Earth of Dimension JC-271-A6, for once with actual, legal trans-universal travel passports on their hands (well, as legal as they could be with both of them lying on the paperwork about their dimension origin). They were waiting for their transport on the Orbital Station B10, marveling at how everything was so different compared to their own Earth.

 

This Earth had been conquered by an alien race with ninety percents genetic similarity to human, about ninety thousand years ago. They acted as protectors of humanity and and brought the age of enlightenment centuries ahead of ‘schedule’. It was all total bullshit, if you asked the Stan twins, the way more advanced races came to another, less advanced races like they were some kind of messiah or even actual gods.

 

Now as for their counterparts from this dimension, apparently since Earth was under supreme ruler kind of intergalactic space queen’s protection, it attracted less than pleasant folks to try and steal said queen’s subjects. Namely: humans. Specifically, some people from New Jersey around ninety-sixties Earth year, which included the Pines family.

 

These space pirates took the humans to their base near Laurentian System. That was when the Axocar Fleet swooped in and saved the day. Stanley and Stanford somehow survived the raid but their parents and Shermy didn’t make it out alive. In the end, the Axocar Matriarch took them both into her House and raised them as her secondary heirs, apparently intrigued by human concept of twins.

 

“Adopted by space royalty, can you believe it? Why couldn’t this be our life?” Stan had blurted once they finished reading about their counterparts on a sheave that arrived along with their passports.

 

“Apparently I have sixty-seven Maestership titles in spaceship exterior design, quadrilium core engineering, applied fermionic design, quantum astroxenobiology, and many others that I can’t even pronounce”, Ford read his counterpart’s data out loud, feeling slightly jealous of his counterpart’s academic records. This could’ve been their life, that could’ve been  _him_ –if only they were given the same opportunity.

 

“And I’m a manager for Axocar G-89 Shipyard with various academic titles in business and management. Never thought I’d met a nerdy me”, Stan whistled.

 

“Well, there was this one time when–” Ford started but was quickly cut off.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.  _She_  doesn’t count, alright?” Stan shuddered and Ford knew exactly which version of him had caused that reaction. He smiled serenely at his brother before going back reading the mission brief.

 

The mission itself was surprisingly quite..simple, despite the amount of their promised payment, which when converted to USD amounted no less than fifty grand (but then again these people had actual planets listed as their estate what the fuck, it was probably equal to throwing pennies to the poor). Apparently they simply needed to take their counterparts’ place for five Standard weeks while they were taking care of another matter elsewhere.

 

“Translation: they want a vacation so they hire us as replacement", as Stan had crudely put it.

 

“I’m having a second thought about this, Stanley”, Ford put the sheave down and damn near hyperventilating. “I can’t play as this guy! I don’t even know what _a-tenth_  of these means!”

 

“Ford, Ford. Sixer, my  _bumblebee_. The love of my life. Listen”, Stanley wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “It’s just for a good five weeks, how hard can it be? If people ask about work, just use that commanding voice o’ yours and skedaddle away. Procrastinate it. Meanwhile, we’re gonna livin’ it up in our fancy space palace surrounded with our fancy servants and we’re gonna love it.”

 

“R-right… We don’t have to do anything, just act like a snooty royalty. It’s not like the first time we’re doing this, right?” Ford took a deep breath and tried to gather his intellect. He could do this. Okay, he could do this and he was going to have fun playing with any advanced technology he can get his hands on this dimension and nothing bad would happen.

 

When their transport arrived, Ford already felt like himself, calm and collected while his eyes took the sight around them. The ship was smallish, probably a _cutter_  class ship that usually went into larger ships such as  _clipper_  class or _cruiser_  class, but it was incredibly beautiful with its gilded wings spread like some kind of majestic bird of prey.

 

The room they were given was heavily decorated in jewels and gold. A crystalline chandelier seemed to float over their head, though on further inspection, the thing didn’t seem to emanate light like it supposed to do. The light, instead, came from the walls. It gently illuminated the room with light enough to read but not enough to outshine the swirling nebula shown on the viewing panel.

 

The most curious thing was the chairs; they didn’t seem to have any legs but they were hovering a few inches above the floor. The ship seemed to have its own artificial gravity, so what was it that caused the chairs to float?

 

Of course, Ford nearly smacked himself for not realizing it sooner. This dimension probably had applied their fermionic technology for furnitures, among everything else. It was so simple yet so complicated, he thought as he inspected the blueish particles swirling under one of the couches.

 

“Yawn. I understand like, none of that stuff coming out of your mouth right now", Stan commented from the other couch, already slouching with obvious lack of concern about the mechanism behind the thing he rested his butt on.

 

Ford grinned at him sheepishly, not realizing that he was talking out loud. “It’s just so fascinating and needlessly complicated for a piece of furniture.”

 

“Duh, Ford. These people are royals. Of course everything they own is needlessly complicated”, Stan waved his hands around. “It makes them more impressive than they actually are, yanno.”

 

“I guess you’re right…” Ford admitted before carefully lowering himself to the couch he had inspected. When it didn’t give under his weight, he relaxed.

 

“I mean, look at this, what, some kind of tall glass? It’s got a goddamn sigil on it!” Stan pointed at a bejeweled goblet he grabbed from the coffee table between them. Ford reached for his own, squinting his eyes at the image branded on the smooth black surface.

 

“It looks like some kind of bird… A bird of prey maybe?”

 

_“Haliaeetus leucocephalus of Earth is a sigil to Maester Stanley of the House of Axocar. It is also commonly known as American bald eagle.”_

 

Stanford nearly dropped the goblet when a disembodied voice chimed out of nowhere. He looked around, his hand blindly reaching the gun holster on his side. “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

 

_“Forgive me, Sirs. I am Calisto, your chamber presence. I am programmed to make your journey enjoyable.”_

 

“Servant AI on  _cutter_  class ship? Well, don’t mind if I do”, Stan grinned and Ford felt himself relaxing back, though he was still alert. With an AI watching their moves, it would be harder to escape when things went south.

 

But their travel was fairly boring, not that they minded. Aside from a few robot servants delivering them food and drink (which they had to check for poison before they were deemed safe enough for consumption), there was nothing remotely interesting happening. Stan was half-asleep while Ford inspected the room for more curios. The animated flowers near the entrance caught his interest for a few minutes, but he found that they were merely holograms. Ford ran his hand through them a few times and felt the particles tickling his skin, the sensation not unlike running his hand over a plasma ball.

 

When the ship finally entered the hangar of a  _galleon_  class ship, both Stanley and Stanford were too jittery with anticipation. They dealt with their alternate selves before and it didn’t always end pleasantly. This could be no different.

 

A droid servant wordlessly escorted them from the hangar. Ford had to admit, _this_  was quite impressive. Not everyone had the resource to get a  _galleon_  class ship, much less a  _heavily customized_  one. The ship this type was quite famous for pleasure trips, but it lacked defensive maneuvers. Most subspace business owners usually had taken a  _dreadnought_  class or  _cruiser_  class ship because they were armed to the teeth, perfect for defending themselves against fugitives.

 

But this ship kept at least five rows of  _warhammer_  cannons and fifteen (that Ford could see) battlebots in the hangar. This ship was armed to the teeth, quite an improvisation for such pleasure ship. Then again, the Axocars owned their own shipyards, one of which their counterparts had control.

 

The thing that instantly caught Ford’s eyes were the decorations. There was only one word popped in his mind to describe it:  _gaudy_. Right on the hangars, there were statues everywhere, looming above them with their unseeing eyes. Each of them depicted a woman with visible traits of an Anur Arta; high forehead, two slits in place of a nose, and round eyes. Her hands were spread in a gesture of benevolence. Animated barn owl and bald eagle were circling around her in reverence. Glowing Latin alphabets arched behind her, but they didn’t seem to form any words that Ford could recognize.

 

“ _‘Knowledge is Power’_ ”, Stan whispered in his ears. Ford glanced at him in confusion. “It’s Astra Arta written in Latin alphabets.”

 

Ford switched on his Astra Arta translator and indeed, it showed the exact three words that formed the Axocars’ motto. “The eagle is your counterpart’s sigil. The owl is probably mine’s. The woman is probably Axocar Matriarch–”

 

“–and our counterparts’ adopted mom. Sweet Moses on a stick, could this get any weirder?” Stan snorted. “I mean, I love Ma, I really do. But I ain’t gonna put her statues everywhere in the Shack.”

 

“And  _please_  don’t start now.”

 

They were led to a brightly lit room with red walls and black polished floor so smooth Ford could see his own reflection staring back nervously at him, and the ceiling was so tall he couldn’t see where it ended. Stanley’s counterpart, which Ford had mentally dubbed as JC-Stan, was lounging on an ornate divan at the end of the room, while Ford’s own counterpart, dubbed as JC-Ford, was pacing in circles with apparent worry in his features.

 

At their entrance, JC-Ford took one glance at their direction before turning to his twin. “No.”

 

“What? They look just like us”, JC-Stan sighed a desperate sound as if they already had this kind of argument before.

 

“Your counterpart has scars!” JC-Ford gestured at Stan. Ford cringed internally; did he really sound that dramatic when he started ranting?

 

“So? Just dump him in the tub already. It’s no big deal”, JC-Stan rolled his eyes.

 

“Whoa, we’re not dumping  _me_  anywhere”, Stan protested.

 

“Fine, we trust you can make up stories why I suddenly have scars everywhere”, JC-Stan waved his hand impatiently. “You can take  _the Eliana_  back to our residence. You know where it is, correct?”

 

Ford felt his breath caught in his throat at the mention of their mother’s,  their biological mother’s, name. “Yes, we do. Do we need to pilot it ourselves?”

 

“No need, she’s crewed. We’re just testing you if you’re really reading our profile or not”, JC-Ford stated. Ford held the urge not to roll his eyes. Stan was less subtle.

 

“We need fifty percent down payment”, Stan reminded their counterparts and it took everything in Ford not to gape at his brother. They usually took only ten percent down payment, tops. However, JC-Stan simply waved his hand as if it was nothing.

 

“Done, and plus some extra for your allowance. It should be enough for five weeks. Just don’t start buying planets or a fleet. Now, go do your job already. _The Eliana_  will be arriving soon. I told the captain this ship’s having engine breakdown so we need their pick up, by the way.”

 

Ford rubbed his eyes under his glasses. These people were nuts. “Very well.”

 

And with that, they were escorted out and into a dressing room. Lines and lines of clothes were floating in a fermionic display. Most of them were tailored to fit their counterparts’ figures, robes and shirts looked so tight as if they were skin painted.

 

There came number one problem.

 

“I can’t wear these!” Stanley protested when a droid servant tried to put a red and black robe to fit his body. It struggled to button the robe and failed, unsurprisingly. Stanley had always have big tummy; even when they were on the run and food was scarce, he always had it.

 

“Just ask for something looser", Ford suggested as he took off his own blue and silver robe for the fifth time, having entered his head into the sleeve hole. Again. “Just–argh! How. This thing–”

 

Another droid rushed to help him and he hissed at it until it backed down again. There was a reason why he refused its help in the first place.

 

“Ugh, fine. Any ideas on how suddenly I gained at least twenty pounds and numerous battle scars?” Stan grunted as his own droid took off the robe to be replaced. It came back with a scandalously sheer night sky blue robe, complete with silvery sequins that made them look like tiny stars. Stan made a face at the sight of it. “Oh  _come on!_ ”

 

“No idea. You’re the one who’s always been good at making up things on the spot. I’m sure you can come up with something", Ford grumbled when he found that somehow he’d worn the robe inside-out. “And I like that one, so wear that thing already and help me with this!”

 

Stanley flipped him, but allowed the droid to dress him up. “Yeah, of course you would like this one, you sleazebag”, he huffed and turned in front of a full-body mirror, looking like he was having fun admiring his own reflection.

 

Ford hated to admit, but the robes did look good on Stan. The cloak fell from his shoulders like dark, glittering waterfall from Dimension Ę91 and it pooled on his feet. The shape of Stan’s body could be seen through the fabric when he turned at certain angle.

 

He caught Stan smirking at him. Ford cleared his throat and turned away.

 

He felt Stan placing his hands on his shoulders, carefully sliding his robe over him. It was impossibly tight, but not uncomfortably so, hugging his body in a perfect fit. The robe was blue like the colors of their Earth’s sea. Silvery feathers were threaded on the frontside, up to his shoulders, and down to his billowing sleeves.

 

Lastly, they put on some jewelries made of metal not found on their Earth, some rings for Ford and a pair of ornate cuffs for Stan.They were smooth, obsidian black and quite heavy too. A droid provided Stan a silvery eyepatch studded with the same black metal, which Ford helped Stan to wear over his blind eye.

 

“Take off yer glasses. It looks out of place with the getup”, Stan pointed out. Before Ford could muster an answer, Stan had snatched it away from his face.

 

“I’ll just let you know, I am partially blind and I hate you”, Ford grumbled, trying hard to make out the blurry shapes of… well, everything.

 

Stan snorted. “So am I, but I love you anyway.”


	2. Chapter 2

Denalian System had ten planets orbiting its twin suns, but only three of them were terraformed into Class M planets. The Axocar G-89 Shipyard was located in the asteroid belt between Denalah-V and Denalah-VI, two Class D planets in uninhabitable zone. The shipyard also double-functioned as refinery, but it wasn’t specified in the sheave what product they were supposed to refine in there. All Ford and Stan needed to know was that their counterparts rented it to smaller houses for higher profit margin.

 

Denalah-X was currently used as main residence of Stanford and Stanley’s counterparts. It had three artificial rings served as planetary defense, atmospheric control, and orbital station.  _The Eliana_  had ported out a couple hundred klicks from Denalah-X, giving them a nice full view of the blue Earth-like planet.

 

Another  _cutter_  class ship took them from the orbital station down to the planet’s atmosphere, per Ford’s order. He rarely saw fully terraformed planets and had intended to take full advantage to study and explore freely without fear of dangers. The ship gilded smoothly at thermosphere height where they could perfectly see everything from above. There was no continent, but the islands were artfully arranged in circular and linear patterns.

 

“This is so weird…” Ford heard Stan muttering under his breath and Ford couldn’t agree more. This was weird and definitely unnatural, yet Ford was so intrigued to see how it worked. The islands were clearly constructed, an art piece carefully crafted from millennia of process. For a brief moment, he lamented his own species’ mortality.

 

A series of active volcano islands made a literal ring of fire around one perfectly circular island; the biggest one, where a massive palace seemingly carved from a lone mountain. A thin, blue bubble was surrounding the island. A circular gate on the bubble opened as the ship neared and closed once they passed.

 

The jutting towers and spiralling spires poked out of the black stone. Lights blinked at them as if beckoning to come closer. This close, the palace looked like a sleeping beast, and seeing that it was quite literally a mountain in the middle of active volcanoes, it might be the case. Ford just hoped that whoever designed the planet had enough common sense to carve out the magma chamber under the mountain.

 

It was nighttime when the ship landed on the landing pad above the palace, and in that instant, Stan broke into hysterical laughter. Ford couldn’t blame him; their statues were built standing right on the entrance of the mountain-palace. They were gigantic, at least twenty meters tall and heavily ornamented with geometrical halos and arches, an equally massive owl and eagle flew over the statues' head. The inscription ' _Time is Power'_  was carved at the base of Stan's statue, while ' _Knowledge is Power_ ' was at the base of Ford's.

 

It was really… embarrassing to see your own face plastered on a freaking gigantic statue. To say their counterparts were vain was like saying the surface of the sun was warm.

 

“Quit it, you’re blowing our covers here”, Ford jabbed an elbow to Stan’s gut. The dork was still laughing his head off.

 

“You gotta admit that’s pretty funny!” Stan wiped tears from his eye. Ford rolled his eyes but said no more when their welcoming procession arrived.

 

A palanquin, also equipped with fermionic technology, was ready to take them into the palace. The short trip on the palanquin was slow, but the view was quite nice. Denalah-X had no moon, but the lights came from the palace was bright enough to see their surrounding. The bridge from the landing pad leading to the main gate was five meters wide and at least a hundred meters long, made completely of clear polished crystals. Pool of dark water surrounded it. A line of bulbous trees grew out from the water on their left and right, their leaves glowing blue and green. Some leaves floating on the water glowed too, but weakly.

 

“Cross-species. They’re probably genetically engineered from Earth’s baobab trees and Cretes’ devil bushes”, Ford squinted, trying to focus his eyes. Stan punched him in the shoulder.

 

“Quit ruining this for me, Poindexter. This is supposed to be romantic.”

 

“Ah…” Ford felt heat creeping up his neck, but he didn't say anything else. A comfortable silence hung between them.

 

It was a nice change from their usual routine during mission.

 

The palanquin passed a trail of insectoid guards in silvery armor, but they seemed not going to attack anytime soon--though Ford couldn't help but notice the largest between them was smelling the air, undoubtedly trying to discern if Ford and Stan were their masters or not.

 

“Solenopterran, warrior type", Stan murmuring in Ford's ear. “These people sure spared no expenses at everything.”

 

Solenopterran were known as vicious fighters in the Union Planets, equal in strength and mental capabilities to the shapeshifting warrior race from Ursida-III. They were generally enlisted in the Union Forces, but higher houses from Union Planets members like the Axocars hired them as guards.

 

At least they were not attacking, which could mean that either JC-Ford or JC-Stan had informed them about the switch, or that Ford and Stan were genetically similar enough to their counterparts to have the exact same scents to them.

 

Either way, they had to be careful, Ford decided.

 

The gate to the palace opened with a series of clicks and groans, all for show of splendor which made Ford rolling his eyes at how unnecessarily majestic everything was.

 

An android servant greeted them in the open hall beyond the gate. It possessed feminine features and dressed richly in silks and sequins, her fanning collar framing her bald head.

 

“Welcome home, Maesters Stanford and Stanley", it… no, she… bowed elegantly. “Would the Maesters like to take a rejuvenating bath?”

 

Ford eyed Stanley for two seconds, trying to convey his confusion as to what this rejuvenating bath meant, before deciding, “No, we'd like to rest for now.”

 

Better safe than sorry.

 

“Very well, I will show you to your chamber”, the android smiled, all teeth and no warmth.

 

The droid took them to a spacious chamber with balcony facing a series of volcanic islands. The bubble surrounding the palace seemed to act as filter for the volcanic dusts from entering the palace, aside from additional defense to the palace.

 

The chamber itself was heavily decorated with silk drapes and diamonds, ornaments shaped like eagles and owls decorating almost every surface. The icy white carpet was thick and embroidered with twelve-petal flowers in metallic thread that shifted colors when looked from different angle. At least there was no more effigies of them in the room, Ford cringed.

 

A clear circular pool dominated nearly the entirety of the room, glowing leaves and multi-colored flower petals floating lazily. A lavish fermionic bed was right in the middle of it, the red silky drapes just barely touching the surface of the pool. When Ford walked closer to the pool, a black stepping stone floated from the bottom of the pool. Ford took cautious glance to Stanley before tentatively putting his weight over the stone. As he did that, another stone rose to the surface.

 

It felt like stepping on a glass, but surprisingly not slippery despite having resurfaced out of the water mere seconds ago. His bejewelled slipper made tinkling noise upon touching the stone. It held under his weight and Ford really wanted to tear it apart just to know the mechanism behind it. Oh it was definitely AI-controlled, he knew that for sure, but aside from that he hadn't have a lick of clue.

 

He was halfway to the bed when Stanley tackled him from behind. Ford expected to fall into a splash and he would sputter out water and shouting indignation at his twin. Instead, they simply landed on hard surface. As he opened his eyes, he realized that more stones rose in circular pattern, holding both of their weight above the pool surface.

 

“Oh, come on!” Stan protested. Ford laughed at his brother's face and splashed some water at Stan. Stan took it as a challenge, grinning like a child on snow day.

 

Fifteen minutes later, they were lazing about on the bed, having changed their soaked clothes to something more comfortable to sleep in, although no less luxurious than their previous robes. The bed was extraordinarily soft, it was nothing like Ford had ever slept on before. Next to him, Stan was propped up on a mountain of pillows, four tiny robots floating around him overflowing with sweet treats and drinks (which Ford had checked in case they were poisoned). Occasionally, he fed Ford some fruits or sweets he was snacking on.

 

“Man, I could get used to this”, Stan sighed, slowly sipping some clear blue drink from a goblet.

 

“ _Don't_  get used to this”, Ford warned him half-heartedly, still enjoying the feeling of soft bed on his back. Stan flicked a grape-like fruit at him, which one of the robots dutifully picked.

 

“I kinda want to go out and explore, but my eye is kind of disagreeing with me”, Stan lazily waved the robot away. Ford hummed in agreement, already feeling his eyelids growing heavier each passing second. This couldn't be right--the food was probably laced with sedative or poison that was slowly killing them. There was no way they were this tired and feel relaxed at the same time, yet there was no arguing that the food did not contain any substance potentially harmful to carbon-based, iron-blooded lifeform like them.

 

He was asleep before Stan did.

 

\--

 

Stan already woke up when Ford woke up. His scarred back was facing at Ford as Stan stood in the balcony. staring at the alien world in front of them. Ford fastened a wine-colored robe--Stan's, he recognized--and walked to his side.

 

“Mornin’, Sleeping Beauty”, Stan teased.

 

Ford rolled his eyes. “Have you gone exploring?”

 

“Nah, don't wanna leave you alone”, Stan shrugged, then he went back to stare at the sky. Ford hummed and followed his twin's fashion.

 

Class M planet meant that Denalian-X had similar properties to Earth. It was probably thanks to the atmospheric control but Ford couldn't feel anything different than Earth. The oxygen level was probably similar, though he couldn't be certain without any equipment. The sky was the same blue. The only difference was the twin suns over their head.

 

Some droids came in bringing refreshment and some casual attire (or as casual as it could be with these people) for them to select. In the end, they opted some lighter robes; jade green for Ford and gold for Stan with matching accessories and eyepatch (for Stan). Ford slipped a gun he took from the portable tear in space-time into the fold on his hips when the droids turned away and he was sure Stan was doing the same, except he expected Stan to carry more artilleries. Once they were finished, the droids showed them way to the dining chamber, which was situated on a balcony facing the ocean.

 

Although the bubble surrounded the palace island was supposed to filter through outside elements, Ford somehow could smell salt. He wondered if this was deliberately constructed by their counterparts because they missed the Atlantic ocean smell of their hometown, back in the Glass Shard Beach.

 

More droids and robots filed out serving delicacies that neither Stans had seen before. The table was overflowing with meats, fruits, pastries, and sweets all served in crystalline platters. The beast on the center platter looked like nothing like Ford had ever seen before, but it did looked like a vertebrate, probably a marine creature. The drink they were served had blueish tint to it, but Ford vaguely remembered from last night that it was non-alcoholic and tasted like water.

 

“Sooo", Stan drawled. “I noticed there's no other sentient lifeform other than us and the guards.”

 

“Maybe they don't like sentient presence around, aside from ones they created. The droids look custom-built and they hired the Solenopterran probably because they can't manufacture better droid guards", Ford hummed, still busy checking the foods with poison detector he brought along. The handheld device was his own invention made from knowledge he gained during their travel. It made tiny hums as it scanned over the hearty meal, but made no beeping noise. He supposed the food was safe and shut the device off.

 

“The sheave did say this planet is their main residence”, Ford continued.

 

“Yeah, about that. Why did they give us keys to their house, though? Sure, these guys aren't seasoned interdimensional travelers, but one of them is handling a small part to intergalactic corporation and the other has--how many academic titles you're supposed have again?”

 

“Sixty-seven. And I get your point. It seems like a very reckless move on their part”, Ford sliced a juicy roasted meat glazed with what looked like honey. “Maybe it's a trap for us.”

 

“Seems like one hell of a trap, though”, Stan forked a slice of meat from the platter in front of him. He sucked it noisily, his eyes closing as he savored the taste. Its juice dribbled onto his chin. Ford rolled his eyes.

 

“You're such a child", he chided his brother and wiped Stan's chin with a napkin. His twin grinned unabashedly.

 

“Could be they're toying with us”, Stan piled more food to his plate. Ford did the same and bit into the meat.

 

The meat was similar to beef meat, stringy but way softer and it melted in his mouth when he took a bite of it. The glaze tasted like honey, if a bit thicker. The meat itself was seasoned with spices that Ford couldn't recognize. It was teeth-rotting sweet and slightly salty, overall very alien to his taste buds but also quite familiar like a long forgotten home.

 

“We can debate about this forever and we might never found out their motives. Let's just enjoy it for awhile", he shrugged.

 

“Says you”, Stan laughed.

 

The meal (lunch…? It seemed a bit heavy for breakfast, but who knew with these people) continued with their usual humor, like two kids without parental supervision. Lots of food ended up on the floor instead of in their stomach (those tiny robots cleaned them like this was normal occurrence), but there was probably still enough food for them to eat until they got sick of it. The liquor appeared in the middle of their meal, having asked (quite loudly) by Stan. It tasted light, balancing the meal nicely, but on his second goblet, Ford felt a little bit lightweight.

 

“I think I'm inti--intoci--heck,  _drunk_ ", Stan stated, swaying on his chair. Not surprising, he took five goblets of that drink. An android deftly slipped a small crystalline glass filled with that blueish water in Stan's hand, who downed it in one go before Ford could warn him about it. Stan blinked his eye several times.

 

“Whoa. I'm sober now”, he gasped, surprised.

 

“This water must have regenerative properties…” Ford held his own glass under the sunlight, though he couldn't find anything of substance. His poison detector simply found that it contained organic material, but not what kind.

 

“I need to bring home a gallon of this”, Stan decided.

 

By the end of the meal, Stan's stomach protruded quite visibly under his robe and even Ford felt a little bit tight fit on his midriff. Ford was sure he couldn't move just yet.

 

“I've never been this full since, like, ever”, Stan patted his belly. “No, wait. Was it Thanksgiving thirty-six years ago?”

 

“You ate so much you threw up. I thought Ma was going to cry", Ford smiled fondly, trying not to remember the fact that Stanley had never celebrated Thanksgiving since his last one thirty-six years ago.

 

“Eh, that was worth it", Stan shrugged. “Can't we get a ride to explore the island, because I'm not sure I can walk yet.”

 

Not two minutes later, a palanquin arrived to the dining chamber along with several droids and robots. Ford gave Stan ‘are you kidding me’ look, but his brother just grinned like a cat who got the cream.

 

The palanquin had a bird of prey carved on its front, its wings spread to the sides of the palanquin. The interior was heavily embroidered blood red fabric with small circular pillows propped up on its sides. Once they got inside, Ford found a golden sphere with yellowish holographic three-dimensional display of the palace map floating an inch above it. He was surprised to find that it was the control device. The palanquin moved forward at his thought and Ford itched tear it apart to see how it worked apparently without neurotransmitter linked to his brain.

 

He could also touch a room in the map and it began to move to that direction.

 

“Can't this go any faster? I'm going to grow beard before we get to wherever we're heading", Stan complained. Ford fiddled with the sphere and no matter how hard he commanded, the palanquin still moved at steady pace.

 

“I think it only has one speed”, Ford concluded. A bit inconvenient, but probably perfect if they wanted a leisure trip around the palace. Stan made a loud farting noise and threw himself back into the pillows, groaning loudly.

 

Yet still, despite Stan's protests, they reached the garden in several minutes, thanks to the portal doors connecting the rooms. The place probably supposed to be a garden, but Ford was certain it was as wide as Gravity Falls forest surrounding the Shack. Multi-colored plants spread in every direction; alien-looking plants with big round leaves bobbing even if there was no wind, blue-flecked flowers hanging from branches overhead, tall spiralling tree with obsidian bark ended in fire colored foliage that made it looked like something set it ablaze. At the center of it all was a small lake with two streams flowing out of it. The lake water was so clear, its surface like a big silvery mirror.

 

They got off the palanquin. Stan was already racing toward the sparkling water and practically diving into the lake--robes and all. Ford chuckled at his brother's antic and followed him to walk toward its rocky shore, lifting the edges of his own robe so it wouldn't touch the water. Water lapped at his slippers and chilled his skin. Looking up, his eyes met with clear blue sky and Denalah twin suns. So they were probably on the mountainside.

 

“Coooooold!!” Stan resurfaced, looking like a wet dog in expensive clothing. His grin was wide as he waded to the shore, the water only reached his hips. “C'mon, Poindexter! The water's cold.”

 

“Yes, I know, but thank you very much. I'd rather not get co-- _oomph!_ ” Stan had wrapped him in a bear hug and tackled him into the water. Ford desperately tried to grab a purchase, but his slippers weren't exactly made for slippery surface. They fell backwards, Ford landing on his butt and Stan on top of him. Thankfully, the layers of his robes cushioned his fall.

 

“You brute, now we're both wet”, Ford wiped water off his face.

 

“And you're prissy. Relax! Didn't you say to enjoy it while it last?” Stan splashed Ford some more.

 

Well, he did said that. Moments to relax rarely came by, especially right during a mission like this. Sure, there were eyes everywhere--they were being monitored, that Ford didn't doubt. Yet, so far they haven't had anything threatening their lives, so it was good.

 

Ford brought his hand down and made a big splash that drenched them both.

 

\--

 

The next few days went in similar fashion. Luxurious food that made their clothes bursting on the middle, luxurious clothes that felt so soft against their skin, luxurious bed that made them feel like sleeping on that particularly fluffy cloud from Dimension 43#1. Well, no. Even that thing wasn't as fluffy as the bed they slept on.

 

Ford had found a room filled with shelves overflowing with sheaves. The information contained in that room alone worth more than the pay they would get from this mission… at least to Stanford. Text upon text of research in sixty-seven Maesterships were available at his fingertips,  _literally_ , and it was hard not to drool at the new knowledge spread before his eyes.

 

It had been awhile since Ford learned something just for the sake of learning. Oh, they learned a lot during their travels, but those were mostly practical knowledge to make their travels easier... in a way. Advanced medical was important when you were stranded in a dystopian planet with nothing resembling a functioning medical facility in sight and you got three solid tungsten bullets in your stomach. Weapon engineering literally brought them their job and the money that followed, even if it was a bit on illegal side. He studied astroxenobiology because knowing how to kill a certain alien creature in very specific ways could decide whether you lived to see another day or died a dog's death.

 

But this… this was heaven. Valhalla. Araboth. The Deva Loka.

 

Again, Ford felt a slight pang of regret that he wouldn't be able to learn everything in this room within his short lifespan, let alone more outside it. Still, he didn't dwell on the thought longer than a couple of seconds. Better be using his time for something more productive, like started reading on Basic Quadrillium Core Engineering. It sounded interesting.

 

By dinnertime, his head was spinning with new information about the most efficient way to build a quadrillium core reactor that could last five millennia. The subject was unsurprisingly more advanced than anything he'd learned in his whole life, despite being only the basic of it, and the text contained subjects that he didn't have basic knowledge of. Still, it was one hell of a learning experience and he was fully intended to get a grasp of it so he could (hopefully) build a similar one back on Earth.

 

Few days later, it was Stanley's turn recounting his own adventure. Apparently there was a hangar deep under the mountain which contained ships more than anything they'd ever seen before. There were even experimental ships that Stan didn't recognize the type and it took Ford everything not to drag his twin to show him the way there right in that moment.

 

Naturally, Stan took one of the one-manned caravels for a trip around the Denalian System.

 

“There’s this one asteroid that's solid diamond, Ford! It's  _insane!_ ” Stan chortled.

 

“Yeah, well… Too bad we can't exactly bring back an asteroid. Besides, the value of diamond will go down significantly if that much of diamond is circulating in Earth market”, Ford chewed his food, apparently some kind of cuisine retrieved from a dead planet. The cream mixed with chopped fish was rich and thick, and it flooded his mouth as he bit into the deep fried crust outside.

 

“Blah, blah. I'm just sayin’, Nerdlord”, Stan waved his hand impatiently, but he was still grinning, apparently still high with euphoria from his first non-life threatening, not-job related space travel, just for the sake of the enjoyment of it.

 

“By the way, did you know that our counterparts are five hundred years old?” Ford asked, recalling the thing he read in one of the sheaves earlier.

 

“Huh. Bastards don't look older than fifty.”

 

And that was that.

 

They explored the palace together after that and found that some rooms in the upper levels they couldn't enter. Those rooms were shut off with a lock that Ford guessed was genetic print based. So, apparently they had different genetic print to their counterparts. It was kind of nice to know that their counterparts weren't as trusting as they first believed.

 

“Maybe it's best if we don't touch that room. Who knew, maybe they ordered the guards to come attacking us if we break the lock”, Ford shrugged. There were still other rooms to explore and he hadn't even finished with the sheaveroom yet.

 

“Ugh, fine. But if something's happening to the mission, I'm breaking into that room, lock or no”, Stan grumbled but followed Ford to continue their exploration.

 

By accident, Ford stumbled into a lab slash study room. He wondered why it wasn't locked like other important rooms (which from idle chatter with the droids they found that those rooms belonged to the Axocar Matriarch and used by her during her infrequent visits), but then he found that the lab hadn't been used for years. So maybe they had newer and better lab somewhere. That was worth checking.

 

But everything were still in place in the old lab, and when he stepped into the workplace, holographic wireframes lit up and ready to be used. He found baselines for several classes of ships, each contained their specifications; energy consumption to every part of the ship, artillery fittings, thickness of the hulls. Heck, there were even specifications to size of bolts or the diameter of each wire in the reactor chamber. There were parameters of each specifications that gave him quite a freedom to design his own spaceship. To top it all, there was also an AI helping him with the calculations that would correct him had he done any mistake.

 

Ford practically dragged every sheave he could get his hands about spaceship design--all seven hundreds and thirty six of them--and camped in the lab. This was apparently normal occurrence to his counterpart, because tiny robots dutifully came to take care of his basic needs (although he rejected their help with the… excretion matter, thankfully there was also a bathroom with a toilet bowl nearby to fulfill his need).

 

He had lost track of time when Stan was back from wherever he was and dragging him out of the lab. The sight of Denalian twin suns made him hiss vehemently when they came to eat at the balcony, though it didn't last long because the world seemed to dim. The bubble around the palace, Ford noticed, now was several shades darker even without his verbal command.

 

He really could get used to this.

 

After that, Stan claimed that Ford had enough ‘nerding out’ and decided they go exploring together again. This time, they found a planetarium, but it was no ordinary planetarium. It was like the galaxy was shrunk to fit in the room, holograms of nebulas and solar systems swirling all around them. On the center of it was a model of Denalian System with its twin suns and ten planets.

 

They reminded him of a model of their own Sol System that Ford saw once in a magazine, but they were also  _nothing_  like that. For once, the suns and the planets weren't connected by a framework. They seemed to float on its own, lazily orbiting around their host stars like tiny glowing peas. The suns were two majestic orange subgiants in near exact same size and brightness orbiting around a common barycenter.

 

“I've read this in one of the sheaves. It's called The Dancing Planets or The Dancing Lights”, Ford breathed out, so fascinated by the gizmos. “Children of royalties are given exact replica of the planets or solar systems in their inheritance so they willlremember of their birthright.”

 

They sat there for hours, marveling at the luxury all around them and thought just how lucky their counterparts were.

 

\--

 

Ford jolted into the state of wakefulness and for a moment felt disoriented. That feeling wasn't unfamiliar, but after three relatively peaceful weeks sleeping on comfortable bed without anything coming to attack them in their sleep, it was quite jarring.

 

He woke up to their counterparts watching at them.

 

Next to him, he felt Stan stirring and the first thing his twin said was a rather colorful string of curses in at least five different languages.

 

JC-Stan tsked rather condescendingly.

 

“Such foul mouth”, he said.

 

“Did you seriously watch us sleeping? How long you've been there? We thought the deal’s five weeks”, Stan fired off.

 

“Relax, it's just holo-call. We’re not actually there, at least not physically”, JC-Ford lazily swept his arm to Ford's head. It shattered into thousands of holographic cubes and reformed once it passed his head. Ford felt hairs stood at the back of his neck, although he wasn't quite sure if the feeling was purely a reaction to static electricity or if it was more due to the threat it could cause.

 

Ford focused his attention to the state of their counterparts. They didn’t seem like they were bringing bad news… no, he didn’t think that was the case. Their counterparts looked slightly different, though. Somewhat, they looked younger than he remembered. JC-Ford lost the white streaks on the side of his head while JC-Stan’s hair seemed to be several shades darker, closer to the color when they were younger. However, before he could think about it further, JC-Stan spoke up.

 

“Anyway, how’s life treating you? Ours is doing nicely until our mother dearest wanting to invite us to a snobby party.”

 

“But since we are light years away, we thought it's a bit convenient just to drop everything and go attend”, JC-Ford continued.

 

“So you want us to attend in your stead? Won't mommy know if we're not the boys she raised?” Stan crossed his arms.

 

“Not a problem. Our mother hadn't paid us visit for two decades”, JC-Stan shrugged. "She's pretty busy playing good mother to  _our sisters._ "

 

The vehemence at that last sentence had Ford blinking. He knew that their counterparts were secondary heirs, but it hadn't occurred to him that there were primary heirs. So, sisters? Plural, and apparently they weren't in best relationship.

 

“Very well, we'll attend. Where will this party will take place?” Ford calmly asked, filing the information for later. Family dispute could make things messy. Messier.

 

“We'll mail you coordinates. Be sure to dress up nice”, JC-Ford reached his ear.

 

Before the connection went cut, Ford swore he could hear a sardonic “Good luck”.

  
“Sweet pumpkin pie”, Stan muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you notice things change here and there, don't freak out. it's just me editing stuff and not some kind of berenst(a/e)in situation.

**Author's Note:**

> jupiter ascending au anyone? ;)
> 
> also since this fic is ford retelling the story to dipper, obviously he censored some parts (as in the obvious sibling incest parts cough cough)
> 
> i'm just wondering if y'all want the uncensored version? :p


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